Coming Home Again
by jaebyrd
Summary: Even though Jason was somewhat apprehensive about this meeting with Bruce, it was comforting to know that whatever happened, he wasn't alone. He was never alone now that he had Sam and Dean by his side. After three years of living his new life with the Winchesters and embracing the life of a Hunter, Jason Todd returns to the Manor to see Bruce. Follow-up fic to The New Winchester


A/N: This follow up fic was just an excuse for me to keep writing in this Universe. Also, I felt a much needed meeting between Jason and Bruce was necessary.

* * *

Jason approached the large front door with the same nervous energy he had three years ago when he had decided it was time to see Bruce and Alfred. Dick kept encouraging him to come visit and told him that he would be more than happy to be at the Manor should he need the added encouragement when it came to finally seeing Bruce.

Jason took him up on his offer, but not before recruiting some support of his own.

He still didn't know why he was so nervous to see Bruce. Could it be that there was still some underlying shame and guilt at getting himself killed? Could it be that there was still some anger and resentment at being replaced as Robin? Could it be that deep down there was sadness that it had been two strangers that had found him that night and not Bruce?

_Don't go there, Jason._

While he was sad that Bruce hadn't been the one to find him walking down that dark highway that fateful night, Jason wouldn't change the fact that it was by chance, or a cosmic event that had put him in the path of the Winchesters.

Dean and Sam were the best things that had happened to him that night.

Speaking of that night, it was still unclear as to what or who was solely responsible for resurrecting Jason. Cas had asked every available angel he could find about their knowledge of Jason's return. The angels were maintaining their silence on the subject either out of resentment toward Cas, or out of sheer ignorance of the situation. Cas gave them all the benefit of the doubt and suspected the latter, Dean and Sam weren't so hopeful. In the three years since his resurrection, nothing was being said on Angel Radio about Jason Todd's return.

Jason pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Dick to let him know that he was here.

"You okay, kid?" Dean asked, putting his hand on Jason's shoulder.

"Yes. No," Jason sighed. "Maybe this was a bad idea." He turned to leave, but Sam caught him by the other arm. Jason was now flanked by the brothers.

"No, we've been putting this off long enough," Sam said. "It's time."

Even though Jason was somewhat apprehensive about this meeting, it was comforting to know that whatever happened, he wasn't alone. He was never alone now that he had Sam and Dean by his side, both figuratively and now quite literally.

Jason rang the doorbell and waited. It felt like forever standing there in anxious anticipation for Alfred to open the door. He could feel his heartbeat through his shirt and hear the beats pulsate in his ears. As the locks turned his mouth started to go dry.

As the door opened, Jason immediately put his head down and slowly backed away to stand behind Dean and Sam. He knew it would be Alfred who would answer the door. The man was too proud to let anyone else do his job. Tears began to swirl in Jason's vision. Why was this so hard?

"May I help you young sirs?"

Jason kept his head down, feeling his face flush and fighting to keep down the overwhelming lump in his throat. He felt a hand on his back breaking him out of his thoughts, but he was too overcome with emotion to say anything just yet.

"Yes, my name is Sam Winchester, and this is my brother Dean, we have someone with us…"

"…who you might know. He says you make the best chocolate chip cookies," Dean added.

Sam and Dean's words gave Jason the strength he finally needed to lift his head and find his voice.

"Hi Alfie," Jason mumbled.

Jason watched and waited as the older man in front of him stared at him with an awed expression. The butler's mouth opened slowly, but words seemed to fail him. Jason could see tears fill the man's eyes.

"Master Jason, my dear boy," Alfred gasped, embracing Jason in a fierce hug. "You've grown. But how, how is this possible?"

"It's a long story, Alfie," Jason answered, breaking the embrace. "Is Bruce home? I'd rather tell you both together."

"He's in the...," Alfred paused looking at Dean and Sam, and then back at Jason. "…in the downstairs study with Master Dick."

Jason knew instantly that was code for Batcave. He glanced at the brothers and then back at Alfred. He leaned in to whisper to the butler.

"They know about my former _night job_ and about Bruce."

Alfred's eyes widened in surprise at the revelation, but quickly softened when he addressed Jason. "I'd suggest not revealing that bit of information to Master Bruce, not yet at least. Come in, please."

Alfred led them through the foyer and into the front sitting room.

It was the weirdest feeling being back inside the Manor. Everything looked and smelled the same, and yet there were some subtle differences. It made sense that Bruce would change certain aspects of the Manor over time. Jason wondered if his bedroom was kept the same, or if it too had been replaced with another occupant.

The sitting room was a little different from what Jason had remembered when he had lived at the Manor four years ago. It looked like Bruce had redecorated. The curtains were different, a lighter shade and more modern giving the room a newer and brighter look. The furniture in this room had also changed as well. By the looks of it both couches and the armchairs had been reupholstered. Jason recognized the old carved wood on one of the armchairs.

Jason had always liked coming in here to do his homework. There was something about the way the afternoon sun would shine through the front bay window and wash the room in a beautiful glow of reds, pinks and orange that drew Jason in. Living on the streets of Crime Alley, Jason had never gotten the opportunity to admire such a breathtaking sunset, which was why he had always loved being here in the late afternoon. It made Jason feel safe, warm, and at home.

This was Jason's favorite place in the Manor second only to the library. He did notice though that there was one piece of furniture missing, the chaise lounge that he would always sit in to read. Jason's thoughts were broken once Alfred spoke to room.

"Would you all like some tea?" Alfred offered.

"No, thank you," Sam replied.

Dean shook his head. "We don't want to put you out or anything."

"I assure you that it is not an imposition, young man. I'll go put the kettle on and then let Master Bruce know you are here."

Jason nodded and sat stiffly in one of the armchairs.

Once Alfred left, Dean turned to Jason. "Jay, you alright? You look like you're gonna hurl."

Doubt started to creep in and tear at Jason's insides. Both Dick and Alfred had been so accepting of Jason's return. There had been no expectation to prove who he was to them or questioning by them to see if he was a fraud. Bruce was a whole different animal. He was an untrusting sceptic always questioning the impossible and rejecting what he couldn't prove with tangible facts. How was Jason going to explain the oddness of his situation to someone who always required evidence for every strange occurrence?

Why was this train of thought just _now_ occurring to Jason? How could he not remember this fact about Bruce's personality? Was he so naïve to think that Bruce would blindly accept and believe every word of his story no matter how bizarre it sounded just because he was his son?

"He's not going to believe it's me," Jason mumbled.

"What? Why would you say that?" Sam asked.

"Bruce is a detective and a man of science. He will want proof about everything before he believes a word out of my mouth." Jason rambled, standing up and ready to bolt.

Dean stood up and grabbed Jason's arm to stop him. "Kid, you're grasping at a speculation. We don't know that, not yet."

"But I _know_ him, Dean. He will want what I can't give him. We still don't know the real reason why or how I came back. None of the angels will talk to Cas about me or give him a straight answer. Chuck has repeatedly avoided answering the question." Jason frantically shook his head. "I seriously doubt Bruce is going to believe that one minute I was dead and the next I woke up in my coffin and clawed myself out!"

"Jay, that's why Sam and I are here with you, to defect any bullshit he gives you. Just tell him the truth. And if he's a dick about it and doesn't believe you, then fuck him. We're out of here."

"Dean!" Sam scolded.

"What?" Dean glared at Sam. "You can't tell me you weren't thinking the exact same thing. Jay doesn't need this, especially from Bruce."

Sam nodded at Dean and then turned to Jason. "Jason, Dean's right. All you can do is be truthful with Bruce about what happened, and if things don't go well, we'll leave. His loss. Okay?"

"Yeah," Jason sighed, rubbing his face harshly. "This whole thing is just so fucked up. Where do I even start?"

"How about from the beginning?"

Jason froze at hearing the familiar gravely timbre of his father's voice. He turned to face its source, but his legs wouldn't move. How long had Bruce been standing there? How much had he heard him talk about angels? His eyes filled with unshed tears. Here was his moment. Bruce, his mentor, his father was finally in front of him. His heart ached with how much he missed Bruce. But the fear of Bruce's rejection kept him rooted in his spot next to Dean.

Jason shook his head. "You won't believe me."

Bruce closed the distance between them and first put his hands gently on Jason's shoulders, and then slowly to his face. Jason could see the look of a detective at work slowly being replaced with that of a father giving his son a once over. He could see tears start to pool in Bruce's eyes as he took in every inch of Jason's frame. There was also a look of wonder in Bruce's eyes…and hope? Jason had never seen hope on Bruce's face before. Bruce then embraced him in a hug.

Jason let go of the tears and the tension, allowing himself to feel the relief of acceptance from his father wash over him. He held on tightly to the hug he had been wanting for the last three years. It anchored him to the present, solidifying his place as Bruce's son.

"Jason. It really _is_ you." Bruce confirmed, breaking the hug to look at him once again. "You're so big."

"It's me, Bruce," Jason mumbled. "And I'm sorry, so sorry. For everything I did."

"No son, you have nothing to apologize for. _I'm_ sorry. Now tell me everything."

Jason waited until Alfred came back with the tea service for everyone. Dick followed him with a tray of freshly baked cookies. Once the tea was served and Alfred finally sat down, Jason told them everything. How he had woken up in his coffin and dug himself out; that Dean and Sam had found him wandering away from Gotham City Cemetery, that their friend Cas had "nursed" him back to health, and that they had brought him back to their Bunker to recover.

He paused in his storytelling trying to figure out the best way to tell Bruce that he had already revealed his secret identity to Dean and Sam. Surely, Bruce had to know that this wasn't a secret that Jason could keep from the brothers for three years. Jason decided it was best to just come out and say it.

"They already know that you are Batman and that I was Robin. It didn't seem fair to keep that a secret for very long."

"We also had a secret of our own that we had been keeping from Jason," Dean interrupted. "Okay, here it goes. Sam and I are hunters. We hunt monsters, because monsters are real. Angels and Demons exist, and God's name is Chuck."

Dean and Sam filled in the details of who they were and their family business, getting the full skepticism of Batman for their efforts. They took it in stride and Jason helped since it was his family business too. Jason told Bruce of his new calling to be a Hunter, and that it had been something Dean and Sam had helped train him to be for the last three years.

Bruce seemed to take it well though he wasn't too pleased to hear that Jason was using guns in his new line of work. Dean assured him that it was necessary to their job as hunters. He explained that the guns were specific to only killing monsters and not humans.

* * *

Sam and Dean moved to the tv room with Dick and another full tray of Alfred's cookies.

Sam had been watching Dick the whole time they were here at the Manor. There was a familiar air about Dick, one that Sam could only identify as the "big brother vibe". It was the same overprotectiveness that Dean would have with him whenever they encountered people they didn't know. Sam could feel that similar energy from Dick regarding Jason as soon as he had walked into the sitting room with Alfred.

While Dean's protective attitude of Sam and Jason was obvious, Dick's attitude was subtle. Dean would intimidate strangers with a quiet observance and a resting jerk face, but Sam observed that Dick used his chatty personality to his advantage, putting others at ease to the point of them 'spilling their guts'. It was a genius tactic.

"I want to thank you both for taking care of Jay. I can't tell you enough how grateful I am that he found you guys. He really does seem to love his new career as a Hunter."

"It's been our pleasure to have him," Dean said. "He's a great kid and smart as a hell. We're the lucky ones."

Sam had a feeling that Dick's protectiveness of Jason didn't just involve strangers, but also served as the mediator between Jason and Bruce. It was the same way Dean would be with him and their Dad.

"So Dick_, _are you going to tell Jason that you filled Bruce in on his story before he had a chance to tell him, or is this something we are keeping to ourselves?" Sam asked, changing the subject.

"Saw right through that, did you?" Dick smirked. "I knew that if Jason had any hope of coming back here and seeing Bruce, that Bruce would need validation that he was truly Jason. It's just the way he is wired. Jason didn't need the added grief of having to prove himself to Bruce on top of whatever other emotions he was dealing with to get him here.

"I told Jason to text me once he got to the front door, that is when I took the opportunity to fill Bruce in on everything Jason had told me about how he came back…well not everything, just the basics. I had lifted Jason's prints and DNA off a mug from the diner we had gone to the night he had arrived in Gotham and matched them with what we had in our files."

Dean raised his eyebrow in suspicion. "Did you need the confirmation too?"

Dick shook his head. "No, call it big brother intuition, I never doubted he was Jason. I knew in my gut it was him. Plus, only one person on this Earth calls me 'Big Bird', and no one could have made that up. I did it for both Bruce and Jason."

"You're a good big brother, Dick." Sam complimented, squeezing Dick's shoulder.

"Not as good as you and Dean. I can see how much Jason looks up to both of you. It kills me that I wasn't the kind of big brother that he needed when he was here. I'm trying to make up for that mistake with Tim and Damian."

"Grayson, you made up for it today with everything you did for Jason."

"Please take care of my little brother, Dean. I don't want to lose him again."

"I will. He's my family too."

"And Dean, call my Dick."

"I can't, sorry. It's a monster thing."

"Oh, did you encounter a monster named Dick?" Dick joked.

"Yes," Sam and Dean answered.

* * *

Dean had been waiting since he first shook Bruce's hand in the sitting room for the older man to request a private word with him. The feeling was mutual. Dean had also been wanting to have words with Bruce since he first met Jason and discovered his life as Bruce's son and as Robin. He couldn't deny that Bruce was likely extremely curious about the people his son had been living with for the last three years. As well as the lifestyle of a hunter and its potential dangers. Not that hunting monsters and fighting criminals was all that much different.

"I'm entrusting my son to you, Dean Winchester. Keep him safe."

It wasn't a request. It was an order, and Dean was all too familiar with the command to keep a young human alive. Even if that human was six feet tall and 19 years old, or 6'4 and 32 years old. He had been given that exact directive from his Dad all of Sam's life. Looking after Sam and protecting him had become second nature. The same attention and concern extended to Jason the moment he set foot in the Bunker. It was a job Dean took seriously and with great care.

"I will, Bruce. He's in good hands with us. We won't let anything happen to him. I promise."

"I'm glad he found you and Sam. I couldn't ask for better men to have brought up my son. I just wish I hadn't lost those three years. I wish I hadn't lost him at all."

He didn't care if anyone believed him or not, but Dean knew what it was like to lose a child. As much as Sam was his brother, he was also Dean's kid. He's the one that taught Sam how to walk, shave, drive, and talk to girls. Losing Sam, the first time had been devastating enough for Dean to take desperate measures to bring Sam back to him. He knew firsthand Bruce's pain at losing Jason and the impossible grief at having to bury his son. But with Jason's return, Bruce had an opportunity to make up for that lost time.

"You have him back now, Bruce. Whatever force made it possible for Jason to return, it gave you a second chance. You can still make up that lost time with him if you're willing to do the work."

The words came out harsher than Dean would have liked, but he couldn't find another way to say it. It felt like something he would have liked to have said to his own Dad when Sam came back to hunting.

Bruce's jaw clenched at Dean's blunt advice, but the tension in his face never reached his eyes. His features melted into understanding. Dean watched as the older man's brow furrowed in thought before he broke the silence.

"There's a contentment to him now that I had never seen in all the years that he had been with me. I mean he laughed and joked with us, smiled, but there was always a heaviness to him. Like he was carrying the weight of the world on his thin shoulders and slowly being crushed by its weight. I know it didn't help that I held him to impossible expectations."

_Or constantly comparing him to Grayson. Shut up, Dean!_

"All of that didn't happen overnight, Bruce." Dean explained, remembering how lost and distrustful Jason had been those first couple of weeks. "He was pretty messed up when we found him. He avoided any questions asked about himself. He would have constant nightmares. After about a week Sam tried to get him to call you, but he was too scared. I think he was afraid of being turned away. He refused to tell us what had happened to him. We knew he was your son. We knew he had been in an accident in Qurac, but all we had was a vague news story and a forged autopsy report.

"Little by little he started to trust us. After two months of being at the Bunker he had decided that he wanted to finally go see you and Alfred. We drove up here the next day and that is when he saw the newspaper's front page of the new Robin with Batman. That was a bad day."

"Oh God. He found out about Tim from the newspaper?"

Dean sighed, shaking his head recalling how inconsolable Jason had been at discovering he had been replaced. "That's when he told us everything about himself, living on the streets, his life as Robin, you as Batman, and the incident that had killed him."

Bruce sagged in his chair under the weight of this new information. He rubbed his face harshly and shook his head but didn't speak.

"He blamed himself for everything - getting killed and then getting replaced," Dean continued. "We eventually talked him down and let him get everything out. That seemed to help with the anger. After that day we sort of adopted him. We made him finish high school, and with his skills showed him the ropes of hunting. He's a true natural. He's good at his job and he seems to really love it."

Dean could see the devastation in Bruce's eyes as he contemplated everything that had just been said. Bruce not only mourned the death of his son, but he also lost out on precious time with him. Time that a father should have been spent shaping his boy into a man. Dean was not one to sugarcoat the truth from anyone, least of all from Bruce Wayne. Bruce needed to know everything that had happened to Jason, especially the parts Dean was sure Jason wouldn't tell Bruce.

Bruce nodded. "It does look that way. Being a hunter seems to better suit his gifts and psyche than fighting crime ever did. A part of me wonders if he even needs me. He's an adult now."

Dean was torn. While he loved his new little brother, Jason still had a father that loved and cared for him. Jason was a great addition to the team, but not at the expense of taking him away from his dad. Had Dean been too hasty in allowing himself to groom Jason into a Hunter? Was the hunting life the right life for Jason? Dean would leave the decision up to the young man, but he already knew Jason wouldn't leave hunting for crimefighting. He had already told Dean that wasn't a part of his life anymore.

"Bruce, he will always need you, and he will always be your son that fact will not change. He will always come home to you. Sam and I will make sure that you remain a constant in his life. We may no longer have our dad, but we will be damn sure Jason never leaves his behind. We are not here to take him away. Since finding Jason on that highway three years ago, and getting to know him, he became a Winchester. He is family, and we will take care of him like family. But when it comes down to it Bruce, he is also a Wayne."

"You're a good man, Dean. Thank you for taking care of my son."

* * *

Bruce led Jason down a hallway and stopped at a door Jason was all to familiar with. It was the door to his bedroom. Jason opened the door and was surprised by what he found. Everything was just as he had left it. Nothing had been taken, touched or put out of place. It was eerie being back in his old room. The space was his, and yet it wasn't anymore. It had belonged to a reckless kid that had died four years ago. Yet its familiarity called to him seeking ownership again. It was a place he was sent to all too frequently whenever he and Bruce fought. It was also his sanctuary away from the chaos of school and crimefighting. Even the red quilt he picked out special on his first night at the Manor looked like it had been freshly laundered.

Alfred had always been impressed at how tidy Jason had kept his room. Jason hadn't grown up with many personal possessions. Once Bruce took him in and made sure he had the essentials and more, Jason had made sure to take care of his stuff. It looked like Alfred took it upon himself to keep Jason's possessions well cared for. This discovery made Alfred even more endeared to Jason.

He never did get used to Alfred taking care of him or cleaning up his messes. It didn't stop Alfred from doing his job where Jason was concerned. The two came to an agreement that the only task Alfred was allowed to accomplish in his room was dusting and bed linen changes. The same arrangement also applied to Alfred only taking care of him when he was ill or severely injured.

"We kept it just as you had left it," Bruce said, entering the room after Jason. "Alfred has been faithfully coming in here at least once a week to dust."

Jason could see that Bruce was true to his word. There wasn't a speck of dust or scent of mustiness anywhere about the room. His copy of The Outsiders was just where he had left it, on his nightstand. Jason pocketed the book to take with him back to the Bunker.

He looked to the far side of the room and noticed a new addition, the chaise lounge chair from the sitting room. His favorite chair was positioned near the homemade bookshelves Bruce had made special to store his books. The chair was in the same condition it had been before he had died. Bruce had saved it and kept it in its original upholstery. Jason delicately fingered the wood cravings along the top.

"You saved everything? Kept it all here? Why?" Jason asked, continuing to walk around his room.

Bruce took a seat on the bed. "Keeping your stuff here, undisturbed meant that part of you was still here with me. Packing it up and putting it away seemed…wrong."

"Thanks for not giving my room to the other guy."

Bruce gave Jason a knowing look. "I'm sorry you had to find out about Tim the way that you did. It wasn't my intention to make him Robin. In fact, it wasn't my intention to _have_ another Robin again after…after what had happened to you."

Here was Jason's chance to tell Bruce everything. Purge all the anger, shame and guilt that had been festering in his head and in his heart for over three years. It was true that he had moved on from the initial rage of being replaced and forgotten. Dean and Sam had helped him find purpose in a new life that would utilize his skills into a job that mirrored crimefighting. All he had ever wanted to do was help people and he was now doing that by killing monsters.

So why was there resentment still eating at him? Did he want to be Robin again? No, but the idea of being replaced hadn't escaped Jason. It had followed him to the Bunker that night and now, even three years later, a part of him is still scared that someday Dean and Sam will replace him too. He knew it was an absurd notion. A nonsensical idea based solely on fear, but what if there is some truth in it? He never thought Bruce would ever replace him, and then he did.

Jason remained at his desk looking at old pictures and thumbing through old school notebooks. Keeping his back to Bruce, he finally decided to speak his mind.

"It sucked finding out that way. When I saw that newspaper article with this strange kid in my uniform, it felt like the worst punch to the gut. I was pissed at you and myself. I had failed you. I royally fucked up and got myself killed," Jason confessed, turning to face Bruce. "And then you replaced me with someone else and I was reduced to a memory. Maybe…maybe that is why it took me so long to come back here. I figured if I could easily get replaced as Robin, then maybe I wasn't good enough to remain being your son."

He was slowly starting to feel a lightness in his chest with his confession. The aggravation toward Bruce that had been living deep in his gut was shrinking with every word coming from his lips. He was prepared for Bruce to be furious at his honesty. He anticipated being yelled at for his part in getting himself killed. He was ready at any moment to kiss this all goodbye, leave, and never come back. But there wasn't any darkness in Bruce's eyes, no irritation, just acceptance of Jason's words.

"Jason,-"

"But Dean and Sam helped me," Jason interrupted, desperately needing Bruce to hear his words. "They introduced me to hunting. They gave me a purpose and a home when I needed it. Did the kid tell you I ran into him recently?"

Bruce shook his head.

"I let him have it" Jason recalled, crossing over to the bookshelves and lightly touching the spines of his old books, again intentionally avoiding Bruce's eyes. "Gave him shit for replacing me, ragged him for being replaced himself, but then he told me that, 'Batman needs a Robin' and he's right. Batman _needs_ the light that only Robin can give, and it's hard to _be_ that light when you're dead."

Bruce got up from the bed and closed the distance between them. He put a hand on Jason's shoulder and squeezed it. Jason stirred at the contact but kept his head down and focused on the books.

"Jason, I'm so sorry. I know that isn't enough to take away the hurt that I caused or replace the years that we lost. But I never once regretted making you my son. You are and always will be enough. Never forget that, okay?" Bruce reaffirmed, dipping his head down to met Jason's eyes. "_I_ failed you. I was wrong to have kept important information from you. You deserved the truth from me and instead I drove you away to seek answers elsewhere. _I_ put you in danger by keeping secrets, because I thought I was protecting you. I was wrong. Son, please forgive me."

He chanced a look at Bruce, surprised at the last statement. Jason knew it took everything in Bruce to admit that he was wrong and to ask for forgiveness all in the same sentence. He could see the sincerity in Bruce's eyes as he waited for Jason to respond.

Jason swallowed, "I do, Bruce."

"You are always, always welcomed back here, Jason," Bruce reassured, embracing Jason in a hug. "Any time you want to come and not just when Gotham has a "monster problem". This room will always be yours. This house will always be your home. I love you, son."

"I love you too, Old Man," Jason replied, breaking out of the embrace.

"Stay for dinner?"

"Yes."

* * *

"Oh my God, that meal was awesome," Dean sighed. "I haven't had food that good since…since…well not for a while."

"Dude, we eat like this every night we're at the Bunker," Sam scoffed at Dean and then turned to Jason. "Jason, did Alfred teach you how to cook?"

Jason nodded. He was embarrassed to tell this story as it was something personal and thoroughly humiliating to admit. Upon his first arrival at the Manor, Jason was still getting used to his new surroundings. He wasn't used to having food readily available to him, much less someone in charge of making his meals. Unbeknownst to Bruce or Alfred the first couple of weeks, Jason had been sneaking half his dinner into his room and hoarding it. Sometimes, he'd just camp out in the kitchen in the middle of the night and stuff his face under the kitchen table.

"I would often wander into the kitchen to sneak some food. Sometimes Alfred would catch me, but he never called me out on it. One day Alfred asked me if I wanted to help him make dinner. It sort of became our thing."

"It was nice enough for Alfred to send us home with leftovers and some cookies," Sam said.

"I told you his cookies were the best," Jason gushed, grabbing the bag and fishing for a cookie.

Dean nodded, reaching for the bag to also grab a cookie. "We definitely need to come back for Thanksgiving."

"I don't think we can storm here on a holiday just for a meal, Dean," Sam reasoned.

Jason shrugged. "We've been invited back for Thanksgiving."

"Awesome!"

As they made their way to the Impala, Dean broke the silence.

"So Kid, how did it feel coming home again?"

"Well…," Jason faltered. "…it was…,"

He was torn at giving a truthful answer. It had been great coming back here despite the initial fear he had at Bruce not believing him. While it had been intimidating to have words with Bruce, the confrontation was needed and necessary. He missed his dad, Alfred's cooking, and even Dick's stupid jokes. The visit was long overdue. There was a contentment to coming home again, even if the Manor wasn't his home anymore. But how could he share this newfound joy with his new family? He didn't want to hurt Dean and Sam. They were his brothers, his partners in hunting. His home was also with them.

Sam smiled at Jason and put his hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. "It's okay Jason, you won't hurt our feelings. How did it feel?"

"I really missed them. I didn't realize how much I had missed living here until we came. But…," Jason sighed. "As much as I had liked living here, it isn't my home anymore. Things may have resolved between me and Bruce, but that doesn't change the fact that we still have different views on things. And if I'm being honest with myself, my home is in Lebanon, Kansas with these two crazy brilliant brothers who taught me all they know about hunting monsters and saving people."

Dean smiled and put his arm around Jason. "So Kid, are you ready to go home?"

Jason took one last look at the Manor, thankful for this place and man inside it who had taken him in during the worst part of his life and gave him a home when he had needed it most. He then turned to both Dean and Sam, thankful to the two brothers who had found him on his worst day and saved him in more ways then even they realize.

"I'm ready."

* * *

A/N: Happy Birthday, Bruce Wayne!


End file.
